


Leave it Unsaid

by MissTeaVee



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: And then his damned relatives call him out on it too, Din and Paz are exes but who knows~, M/M, Paz has feelings and he hates it, Set during chapter 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22111684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissTeaVee/pseuds/MissTeaVee
Summary: The beskar ingots marked with the Imperial crest were only an excuse to be angry.
Relationships: The Mandalorian/Paz Vizla
Comments: 18
Kudos: 446





	Leave it Unsaid

“You tried to take his helmet off. In front of the _entire_ Tribe.”

Paz Vizla cringes, though he’s glad that his sibling’s managed to wait this long to confront him about the little… incident earlier. At least they’re in a private corner, not in front of everyone. “I knew he’d stop me.”

“Did you, or are you just convincing yourself retroactively?” Abara snaps at him. “Can you imagine what would’ve happened if you’d succeeded? Imagine him having to shed his gear and walk out of the Covert, never to be seen again because of your bitterness. The dishonor you’d have cast on the man who was chosen to provide for the tribe.”

“Vod…”

“No. When his armor’s done and he departs the Covert this time, if you’re not apologizing to him, you’d better be nowhere in sight.”

He grimaces to himself as his sibling slams a hand harmlessly into his chest, making a noise of utter disgust. “You’re right but-”

“But?” They ask dangerously. Paz decides that in this one case, discretion is better than valor.

“Nothing, you’re right. I have my problems with him but I shouldn’t have taken my mood out on him like that, and if I had to, I shouldn’t’ve gone for his helmet. When he leaves the Covert again he won’t see a whisper of me. Are you happy?”

“I’m less angry.”

* * *

He holds true to his word and stays out of the way as Djarin exits the Covert. He’s definitely not sulking about it either.

“You are totally sulking,” chirps his niece; Abara’s daughter Savii.

“I didn’t say anything,” he grumbles, turning his attention to the two year old foundling in his arms; Satrina and Korm’rk’s. The boy’s occupied trying to pry a bit of armor off Paz’s chest, small brow furrowed with intense concentration.

“You were muttering,” The young woman replies, peeking around the corner. “He really should paint that beskar. It’d stand out less.”

“He won’t until he gets his signet, he’s too traditionalist,” Paz predicts tiredly. His niece actually laughs out loud.

“Ba’vod’u, you are saying someone is too traditionalist? _Paz Vizla_ thinks someone is taking The Way too far!?”

Her bright laughter makes the boy in his arms start to giggle happily, and he squirms, clambering up his caretaker’s chest plates to reach for one of the long panels of durasteel that guard Savii’s hips and thighs. Paz sighs through the defensiveness. She’s his favorite young adult in the Covert and she _knows_ she can get away with annoying him. “It’s not that, cyar’ika, he put on his helmet at age twelve after his _buir_ died and never showed his face again, not to anyone. Not even the parents that took him in or his new siblings. He won’t even let Korm’rk check his head over when he comes back with injuries.”

Savii stills at hearing that; Korm’rk is the Tribe’s doctor- it’s fully appropriate to be unmasked before him. That doesn’t mean that it isn’t unsettling for the Mandalorians to bare themselves to their Doctor, but it’s _allowed_ , even expected, if you need healing. Not to mention that Mandalorians hadn’t even been expected to always stay masked during the time period in which Din had been at that age. Nowadays, children are still not expected to wear their masks until the age of fourteen. “So he’s closed himself off from bonds with others completely.”

“Yes,” Paz says, looking down at the boy he’s babysitting.

“That doesn’t explain why you don’t like him,” Savii observes.

“It’s stupid and irrational, I’ll admit it,” Paz sighs softly. “And it’s not your business, Ad’ika.”

Savii hums at that, adjusting her headscarf. “Whatever you say, Uncle Paz. If it’s irrational, you should try to get over it, make a friendly overture.”

“He wouldn’t accept it,” Paz snorts. “Djarin’s a mirror that reflects the first thing you ever gave him. If you meet him and you’re kind, he returns kindness. If you meet him and you’re harsh, that’s all you’ll ever get from him. He’s _Mandokarla_ like that.”

“Well that can’t be true. I’ve heard that you two used to be lovers.”

He nearly drops the child in his arms to hear her say this.

* * *

It’s the wrong word to use and it burns in his stomach to hear it used. _Lovers_. No. They were never lovers. They’d been young men full of wants and desires, and they were sent out on enough missions together that sometimes there was time for the secretive press of bodies and brush of hands in dark corners.

They’d agreed without ever saying that it was nothing but the release of stress and tension, that it meant nothing as long as they kept as much armor on as possible, as long as they didn’t speak words of endearment.

Besides, Lovers would see one another’s faces, wouldn’t they?

* * *

“Who the he-” He cuts himself off, not wanting to swear in front of the baby. “Who told you that?”

Savii sighs. “If I tell you, then you’ll go have a fight with them, and then Alor will get mad at you for being a Disturber, Ba’vod’u.”

“I would’ve just gone to talk about them spreading rumors,” He grits out. He is a grown warrior, he has better self control than that. Then he flashes back to the surge of fury that’d risen seeing the Imperial-stamped beskar ingots and his reaction to that emotion. Shame cools his annoyance. Savii’s lack of response tells him what she thinks about his statement. Finally he speaks again.

“We weren’t lovers. That implies he’d have… given of himself. Trusted enough to take a lover.”

“He hurt you because he couldn’t give what you wanted when you caught feelings,” Savii translates. Paz sighs softly, but at least her tone is sympathetic. “And you’ve been bitter ever since.”

“You make it sound childish,” He grumbles.

“It kind of is, Uncle,” She says, reaching out and plucking the toddler out of Paz’s arms. The little boy giggles, grabbing at her headscarf and trying to pull it. Savii chuckles softly. “I can’t blame you for your feelings, though.”

“Thank you,” he sighs, embarrassed. “I tried to bring things back to how they’d been before I tried talking to him, but he just shut me out after that. We were done as… whatever we’d been, and he acted like it’d never happened. He went solo after that.”

“I’m sorry,” she tells him seriously, then looking at the toddler in her arms. “Well Thal, what do you think? Has uncle Paz given us enough grumbles?”

The boy giggled, wiggling his limbs, discovering that he’ll have more luck retrieving Savii’s headscarf if he only pulls at one side of it. It comes undone as the boy drags it around and over the left side of the young sniper’s neck, revealing the back of her helmet and the beskar chainmail that hangs there. Savii shakes her head, rattling the mail for the child’s amusement. Thal babbles proudly, grasping the cloth and pressing his face into it.

“My cape!” He declares. Both Paz and Savii chuckle indulgently, Paz relieved that his niece has dropped the subject. Then the boy tries to reach around Savii’s neck for the chainmail, and Paz gets to watch Savii try and defend herself from curious fingers. It’s enough to distract him from his sulking.

* * *

He’s in the process of putting his own foundlings to bed when the Call comes. First is the sound of someone running, and he hurriedly instructs his eldest to watch the other two before stepping out of the partitioned room that makes up his family quarters and heading for the main hall, where others have gathered to see what’s going on. 

Roya is leaning over on her knees, panting for breath. Their clan leader stands over her, waiting for the warrior to catch her breath. Finally Roya straightens. “Four bounty hunters, saying that even a Mandalorian couldn’t kill them all. One said ‘kill him and take the bounty back to the buyer.’”

“He stole a bounty?” Asks Paz in disbelief. “Why the hell would-” He catches the raised hand pointed in his direction from their Leader and falls silent.

“It’s an child!” exclaims Roya. “That’s why. I heard them discuss how to kill him without harming it.”

“A child?” Asks their Clan leader, her tone strange, like she was putting things together in her head, but it didn’t quite make sense yet. But then she turns her focus to other matters at hand. “When was this, Roya?”

“Moments ago,” Says the warrior. “I could hear blaster fire starting up in the distance from the doorway. The whole guild is heading out to stop him. The value of that child to those Imperials must be incredible.”

There’s a moment of silent tension, and then the clan leader gestures once, spreading her arms. “Go. All of you. One of our own is cornered and in need of help, and he is guarding a Foundling. This is The Way.”

If it weren’t for the undercurrent of worry for their tribesman, they’d have all been delighted.

* * *

Paz is firing even before he lands, though it puts him off balance. Then his feet plant heavily in the dirt, mere steps away from where Djarin is huddled in a broken hovercart, clearly shielding something with his body. It’s not hard to guess what that something is. Even corned, Din is gamely taking shots when the opportunity presents itself. Despite the overwhelming odds, it is good to see that the bounty hunter’s new beskar’gam has protected him.

Abara lands at his back and starts shooting, guarding Paz’s flank, so he turns to Djarin. “Get out of here, we’ll hold them off!”

“You’re going to have to relocate the Covert,” Djarin tells him, his tone unsteady, almost confused. Had he truly though the Tribe wouldn’t have helped him? Was that why he’d gone off to do this without telling anyone?

Paz pauses to stare into the other’s man’s visor, knowing his intensity will translate over, if nothing else. Din stares back. “This is the way.”

A slight nod, Din’s voice steadied as he replies in kind; “This is the way.”

There’s a lot in that sentence, things unsaid between them. Paz doesn’t have the time to decipher them, so he just nods once and turns his attention back to the battle. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Din gather up a small bundle, an infant, and turn to flee towards the Razorcrest. There is a moment though, a brief hesitation in the heavy gunner’s direction, and then Din Djarin is gone with his charge, fleeing to safety.

Paz doesn’t turn to watch him go.

When the Razorcrest lifts off, it's almost as if the bounty hunters melt away, fleeing into the shadows now that the possibility of claiming a prize has vanished. Paz racks his heavy canon and activates his jetpack to escort the ship as far as he can. He manages to bring himself up alongside the cockpit and sees Din turn to look at him. It's a lot of trouble to bring his arm up without spinning out of control, but Paz does it anyway, flipping his fellow Mandalorian a salute, knowing they likely won't see each other again for some time. He gets a simple nod in thanks, and then he has to bank away and head for ground.

When he lands, he feels a bit lighter, for reasons unexplainable.

**Author's Note:**

> ba'vod'u - Gender neutral term for your parents' siblings (Aunt/Uncle)  
> Cyar'ika - Sweetheart. In this cased used as a term of affection to a younger relative.  
> Buir - Father, Mother, Parent  
> Ad'ika - Diminuitive of Child.  
> Mandokarla - having the *right stuff*, showing guts and spirit, the state of being the epitome of Mando virtue.  
> Beskar'gam - Armor.


End file.
